1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2that horders of crooks felt they’d more right to own
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4the thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6filching the lolly country thrift helped save
7the fertile mother changelings drops like kings
8thou homestead hillside woodland rock and cave
9The peasants’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
10with quill white-collared through his life will jog
11poor Yorick comes to bury not address
12But I can understand you Brogher Gog
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14for Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
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